I was already fast asleep at 7:52 pm on Thursday night when the email arrived. Thirteen hours later, I was still lying in bed around 9 a.m. when I saw the email: “The climb is headed out tomorrow night. I have space, so let me know if you can make it.”
My excitement increased as the news sunk in: A team was climbing Mt. Hood tonight…and I could go.
I could go.
Six months since my last climb and months of waiting for the right conditions, the opportunity arises for two summits—in one week. What are the odds?
Way back in September while hiking up to Council Crest—one of the highest points in Portland overlooking all of the surrounding mountains—one of my climbing partners and I set our sights on climbing Mount St. Helens together. The winter route seemed like great training toward our ultimate goal: attempting Mt. Hood again after nearly summiting in June, 2021.
We set a couple of dates for early December, then trained and waited for snow. We were in peak training condition as our dates came and went. We kept waiting for snow. It started snowing, but it was the Holidays. And then Omicron surged. So, we hadn’t really trained in a month. I recovered from COVID the week before. And I had just started my monthly cycle.
While planning an elevation training hike for the weekend, we saw a tiny high-pressure weather window of clear skies and calm winds on the horizon mid-week.
Overall, we were healthy and we were ready.
We weren’t in our peak condition, but the conditions combined beautifully to get us to the peak.
We saw a shooting star above the mountain right before a stunning sunrise revealed Mt. Hood gloriously floating above a sea of clouds. As the sun climbed across the clear blue sky, we paused to marvel at the breathtaking views with others we encountered on the way up, including a surprising fellow climber. An almost four-year-old walking alongside his parents, ice ax in hand—just like us. So that’s where the skittle came from that I’d seen in the snow.
By 10 a.m., we reached the summit.
Our little friend would get there too, just a couple of hours later.
Five hours up, four hours down. About 5,600 ft. over 11.5 miles round trip. We got back to the car by 2 p.m., leaving plenty of time for a celebratory coffee stop and to beat traffic on the way home. It went so smoothly that I wondered throughout the climb: was it still an adventure if there weren’t any challenges, any drama?
And I was still wondering this when I woke up on Friday morning and checked my email. Wait, this Mazamas team was climbing Mt. Hood tonight…and I could go?
Not just any adventure. My dream. Right there.
And my gear wasn’t even unpacked.
I quickly assessed the conditions. The weather forecast showed the same high winds and cold temps that we had hustled to avoid. My body was sore, but functional. My mind less so. I didn’t know the team, though most folks with the Mazamas Mountaineering Club are strong climbers. But, would I be an asset or a liability to the team?
“It’d be brutal but you could do it,” texted my climbing partner.
Hood or bust indeed.
It felt like I was pushing the odds, so I reluctantly emailed the climb leader to climb on without me.
One summit was plenty.
For now.
May the odds be in your favor this week.
Love,
Jules
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